


Vice

by whimsicalmuse



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-23
Updated: 2004-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalmuse/pseuds/whimsicalmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smutty PWP about Dom?s many filthy habits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vice

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the [Monaboyd.net Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Monaboyd.net), which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Monaboyd_Archive/profile).

Billy hated walking into Dom's apartment sometimes. The man was a slob. Bill liked things neat and orderly. His socks were always paired, his magazines always in a neat pile, and he always used a coaster.

But Dominic on the other hand was a walking disaster.

From the moment Billy walked into the flat, he was appalled. He tripped over what he knew was one of three pairs of underwear, bunched smack into the middle of the living room. Billy tripped over a pair of shoes near the coffee table. He slipped, and nearly fell to an untimely death on the scattered magazines on the floor. Then, as he helped himself up, he stuck his hand into a damp ring of beer.

"Disgusting... Dominic?"

Another thing that drove Billy crazy was the fact that Dom never remembered to open his damn windows. You'd never know it by his passion for saving trees, but Dominic Monaghan was a top notch plant killer. Bill was sure the wilted bamboo atop the entertainment center hadn't seen the sun in weeks.

"Dom?" He frowned. They were going to be late. Where was he?  
Bill gingerly made his way back to the bedroom, dodging more detritus along the way, until he found him, sitting atop his bay window.

"Hello to you, too."

"'Lo Bill."

Dom never turned to face him.

Billy sat on the edge of Dom's unmade bed.

"You ready?"

He fingered the edge of the sheet...it was damp, and he didn't want to know why.

"In a minute." His back was still to Bill, and hunched.

"What are you doing there, Dom?"

Come to think of it, the man was sitting rather awkwardly, as if he was hiding something. Which of course, was an open invite for Billy to go and see just what he was on about. The vertical blinds were drawn apart, and a small breeze trickled in from small crack of the open window.

But the breeze did nothing to conceal the stale smell or the small wisps of smoke that curled up and around Billy's nose.

Smoke from a cigarette.

"You're...smoking?"

Fire simmered in his belly.

"Bill-"

"I thought we had this discussion, Dommie. Smoking is a filthy habit." He hadn’t intended to sound so patriarchal, but now that he’d said it, he didn’t regret it.

Dom looked up, fag dangling from his lips, and narrowed his eyes.

"Fuck you, cigar boy."

"That was different," he sniffed. "It was your birthday."

"Mmm. And that time we went to-"

"Dominic. I don't smoke regularly. It's not a habit."

"This," he snatched the fag from his lips. "This, lad, is a dirty habit."

Dom shrugged, digging in his pocket.

"S'not like it has any effect on you, it's my body..."

"You're wrong" His voice was like a whip crack.

Somewhere, low in Dom's belly, he squirmed pleasantly.

"What you do to yourself, you do to me, Dominic."

Dom still regarded him lazily, lighting his second cig.

He spoke around the cig, "What are we, Siamese now?"

He inhaled, so deep his cheeks were hollow, and then exhaled, sending a great cloud of smoke right into Billy's face.

Bill blinked. The smoke burned his eyes.

"You test me, Dominic."

The corners of Dom’s lips curled. Ahh there it was, satin and steel.

Dom puffed again.

"So, are we still going or what?"

Billy's fingers twitched.

"I'll let you finish."

"Hmm. Could take me a while. Go make yourself comfortable."

He settled back onto the ledge, crossing one leg under him, cig dangling from his long fingers.

Billy blinked. Enough of this.

"We have to be somewhere, Dominic, and I'm in no mood to wait for you. Put it out."

"In a minute, Bill."

"Put it out, before I do."

Dom laughed, "What you going to chew it?"

He stood up, a breath away from Bill now, his breath a contrast of smoke and mint.

Menthol. Dom smoked menthol.

Billy's fingers wrapped around Dom's thin wrist in a flash, biting into the skin.

"Elijah started you on this," he mused, rubbing his thumb over the top of the man's wrist idly. "Always around you, smoking those damn cloves. Put a hunger for the taste in your mouth."

He tugged, pulling Dom closer in one awkward step, and crushed his lips against his, stealing the foreign tastes from his lips.

Dom pulled back, breathless, and a piece of hot ash fell, landing like a hot snowflake onto Bill's hand.

"Gonna help you kick this filthy habit, Dominic."

He took the first fag then, still lit with a smoking cherry, and pressed, hard into the top of his wrist, burning the skin there.

Dom hissed, eyes dilated in pain and pulled back, scowling.

"What the fuck-"

But then the pain was gone, as a slick tongue swirled around the burn, which was just starting to turn red.

And suddenly, Dom forgot why he smoked in the first place.

Amazingly, the fag was still lit, and firmly clamped between Bill's neat fingers. Dom pulled away, or tried to rather, but found himself easily restrained.

"Bill, quit playing around," He didn't mean to sound so scared, so timid, and the thought angered him

"You're right, Dom." Smug. The expression on his face was smug. He'd fancied he'd won this round.

"Let's go. Put that cig out."

Dom frowned defiantly, and then placed the cig to his lips, and inhaled again.

"Dom," Bill licked his lips.

"Hold on Bill, a few more-"

"Dominic, stop it."

His head rushed, a pale shadow of a different sort of high, but he still puffed, ignoring the burn and tingle in his chest.

One more puff, exhaled into Bill's face, and the tether snapped.

Billy's face hardened, the cig snapped up and heading for Dom's wrist, but with his free hand, Dom caught it and stopped him.

He crushed the cig into the wall, burning the paint crudely, and grinned.

The joy of annoying the man was short lived however, because Bill was suddenly everywhere. Angry--and snatching the other fag from his fingers. To burn, mark, singe, everywhere it seemed, though it may have been in just a few places. Dom smelled the faint sweet sickness of his own skin as it burned, hissed with each wound. Yet he also drew himself closer, until their hips brushed.

Bill was as hard as the expression on his face.

Bill pressed Dom up against the wall, nose buried in Dom's neck, looking for a place where he could smell him, smell something familiar. Sharp teeth scraped Dom's pronounced clavicle, even as his erection ground into Bill's, slick and hot through the layer of denim. But then Dom flipped Bill, shocking him, even as their cocks touched, and the two began to move in a half frantic dance

When Dom felt himself pulling apart at the edges, he pulled away, panting breathless from their kisses, and dropped to his knees. Bill looked down with an all-encompassing fondness tight in his chest, as Dom's fingers slid up and down Bill's cock. Dom's tongue flashed, flicking the bead of moisture at the tip. Then he palmed Billy’s cock, rubbing his hand up and down, from the warm base to the flushed tip. Bill watched, staring intently at the pink burns littered across Dom's creamy wrists, so hard that he ached where the material of his pants touched. Then Dom's mouth descended upon him, wet and alive, and rapidly unraveling him.

"No, no, Dom."

He pulled him up roughly.

"Not like this."

Dom pouted.

"There are better ways, lad." He wrapped his hands around his balls, and squeezed fondly.

"We’ll be late." Dom pointed out, wincing as Bill rubbed a callused finger over each wound.

"So what else is new?"

"The bed isn't made." Dom teased, even as his hands tugged at the waist of his pants.

"This is _your_ house, Dom."

Dom paused.

"I thought my bad habits pissed you off?"

"They do, but if you didn't have them, you wouldn’t need me around to break them."

His eyes said, to break you.

A slick little tongue found the burns again, and then Billy shoved him down onto his back, smiling at the sight of the young man, sprawled on the bed amongst dirty clothes and a garish pink bedspread, pants undone, revealing his erection.

"Gonna fuck you Dommie," He hovered over Dom, digging in the nightstand for what he knew was there.

Dom's cock twitched. The cuffs would chafe against the burns, and he'd probably need to be bandaged by the time they were done.

"And after I fuck you, we'll meet the boys for dinner, though we'll be fashionably late."

"As always," Dom croaked, as Bill snapped the restraints into place, and palmed his erection roughly.

"As always," Billy sighed, lifting Dom's hips up, as he shoved into him, thrusting so hard the headboard lurched, and Dom cried out.

The burned skin rubbed leather, already tingling between pain and pleasure.


End file.
